


Blackbird

by downpourcity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downpourcity/pseuds/downpourcity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Overwatch agents begin to go missing, Lena Oxton finds herself feeling worried. The most recent agent to vanish without a trace leaves behind a very haunting clue. Will Tracer figure out the truth? Or will she ultimately be destroyed in the process?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Doves

**Author's Note:**

> My German is a bit rusty, forgive me if I goof up a bit.  
> Oh and uh-- came up with this story from a dream I had. I hope it translates well. :)
> 
> Audiobook Version: https://soundcloud.com/user-949398730/blackbird-chapter-1

**_No, not another one._ **

_That’s a stupid thought, Oxton._

Each person she had grown close to had vanished into the abyss. 

She remembered their faces, all of them, to the point of being able to sketch them in the air and hope just for a moment that that would summon them back before her. There was Fareeha Amari, she had just been reunited with her mother after years of being separated. She had a very strong compass, always telling her what was wrong and right and what to do and how to do it. It hurt her to think that Ana had to go through losing something again, but she hoped within her heart that Fareeha was still out there. _Alive._

Her head spun as she attempted to cool down, she thought to the others, maybe that would help. Jesse McCree, he could knock someone down with a touch and take out someone with a single bullet. He was always so hot headed, but so very intelligent and good on the battlefield. She could almost smell his scent and hear the words on his breath. _They were ghosts now-- give up on ghosts, Lena. No_ , she had to keep thinking about them. Keep them alive with her thoughts. Genji Shimada, such a wonderful warrior. She particularly enjoyed his calm nature and his ability to work through rough times. A smile collected on her lips now. Oh and Mei, Mei-Ling Zhou. She was frozen for so long but she still saw the best in everything even after the fact. She cared so much about the environment and those living in it. Even she would try her best after being struck down by stones.

Lena hummed out a distant tune, closing her eyes to it in order to center herself. Footsteps interrupted her calming exercises.

“Tracer, we’ve gotten word.” A gruff voice echoed in the large space of the hangar, Jack. It was Jack’s voice, she didn’t even have to open her eyes to know that.

“About what?” She opened one eye, her head tilting to the side slightly. Her brow tweaked upward, a rather optimistic smile filling her once barren face.

“Doctor Ziegler, ...she’s gone missing.” His mask covered his face but she knew he looked rather disgusted at both himself and that of whatever was going on.

“A person can’t just go missing without some sort of… you know...alarms going off, yeah?” She shifted uncontrollably, being unable to contain herself anymore. _Blast._

“Whoever took her knew what they were doing. There wasn’t any signs of struggle or damage to the surrounding areas or the room she was present in. Winston is surveying the area. However we’re up a river without a paddle.” He scratched at the back of his head, he seemed to do that whenever he was befuddled about something.

“No signs of struggle? Anything? That’s really unlike her, mate.” She traced the lines on her hands, attempting to stop her leg from moving up and down rapidly like some sort of mechanism. “Are ya sure?”

“Positive. Her usual places are quite organized, as per usual.” His brows raised, then went back down then raised again. Alrighty then.

“Are you sure she hasn’t just… gone out?” That seemed logical. If there was no sign of struggle or strange stuff, then maybe she’s out with the lot of em.

“That’s probable. Yet you can’t forget Jesse, Fareeha or the rest of that group. There were obvious signs of battle..struggle even. This is too close to being just a coincidence. It’s better safe than finding a stray bullet in your head.” He let the last bit come out as a growl.

“Don’t’cha mean better safe than sorry?” She giggled quickly afterward, smiling nervously from ear to ear. It was so hard to balance things. Part of her was freaked out that Angela was now gone, another part of her told her not to worry and the third told her to keep pretending everything was alright and that maybe it’d be true.

“Oxton, _now’s not the time_.” He huffed out a heavy sigh and began his walk towards the opposite direction. Which meant to follow him.

She stood up, shaking her body out, then followed him at a close distance. Where were they headed? Angela’s usual places? The other scenes? Jack was getting rather erratic with his actions. Losing people could do that to someone. So many questions gnawed at her brain, but she knew if she asked any of them, he’d blast his bad attitude in her face. Usually she was one to not care, but in this instance, she knew her boundaries.

Lena coughed slightly as if trying to make Jack talk. However it went ignored. She rounded the corner to the medical and residential wing, finding herself in the midst of Angela’s usual affairs. Medicine, books, IV’s, framed photographs, random papers and syringes. She hated looking at those syringes, however what lay next to one was very peculiar. She walked towards it slowly, not wanting to draw any attention from the already distracted Jack. Good. She took up the paper like a snapping turtle.

The paper was foreign to her, words in English and in another language were sprawled out in hastily written characters. The handwriting was familiar, yet very very odd all the same. Signed below was a call-sign she did not recognize. _Blackbird._ Lena’s eyes narrowed as she looked over the piece of paper over and over. Who was this blackbird? What was this blackbird? She shoved it into her jacket quickly, hoping that somehow Jack didn’t notice. He cleared his throat and she nearly jumped through the roof.

“This picture was crooked, you know how I hate that!” She quickly retorted to his clearing of the throat.

“What? You shouldn’t have fixed it...” His voice was rather distant as if he were really dwelling on something. Not a somebody, a something. A plan?

“Tracer, Morrison, come see this. I’ve found something rather odd.” Winston’s voice echoed into the empty halls, filling it with heavy vibrations.

“What would that be?” His gravel filled voice dragged itself across the tiles and into the direction of the gorilla.

“Alright, friend. I’ll be there momentarily. I thought I saw something out in the bay.” She sighed, hugging herself, covering the paper as well as she could.  
Jack left her alone in the room, her eye catching something far below. A small glimmer of something on the horizon line. Funny, he didn’t seem to flinch when she said that. She heard rapidly louder talking from the other room. Winston was scared or perhaps stressed beyond belief, because his voice went up a bit more than normal. Jack however kept his usual tone, something wasn’t right.

She quickly walked into the direction of their voices, stopping in the doorway. Winston held a circular device, a hologram faced the ceiling. The logo that came from the device was red, almost blood colored, it had an eerie feel to it. It was as if she had seen it once before.

“Damn it.” Jack hissed, glaring down at the logo as if it were his bane. He grabbed it from Winston’s large hands, almost crushing it in his grasp. Just as he was about to look to the back a female voice came from it.

“What on Earth are you doing?!” A voice, Angela’s played, the sound of crunching paper beneath feet roared to life. Glass shattering.

“Come with me.” A very quiet and unfamiliar voice returned, the recording had distorted it ever so slightly. Lena couldn’t make it out.

“No! Never!” She let out a rather disgusted laugh, the sound of her hitting the metal wall followed. She was backed against a wall, huh?

The recording ended rather abruptly, leaving the three of them wanting more. It left them with more questions than answers. Where were the broken glass and smashed papers? Lena shook her head, wondering if the other voice was of this “Blackbird” person. The logo fluctuated on the device and the recording played again. Jack never once stopped looking down at it.

“I can’t believe this.” Winston shook his head, taking his glasses off of his nose. He squinted his eyes to gaze through their slight grit.  “They keep getting more and more comfortable! It’s...It’s...ridiculous!”

“So _them_ of all people took her. Why am I not surprised? Does that mean the rest of them were taken by _them_ as well? That can’t be possible. They aren’t strong enough.” He crunched his other hand into a rather tight fist.

“We aren’t strong enough either, Morrison.” Winston replied, putting his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

Jack sighed loudly, the heat evident in his release of stress. “They’ll break free, I know they will. They’re Overwatch. We’re Overwatch. We’ll work from here and get them back that way.”

“Who? Who took them?” Lena asked, neither of them seeming to take notice to her question fast enough.

“Talon, Tracer. Talon.” Winston answered as Jack left the room with the device. He followed soon after, leaving Lena alone.

The quiet voice of Ana filled her ears, she could pick out comforting words. Something to the effect of, “Calm down, Morrison. We’ll get them back. Don’t worry--” She stopped paying attention to the rest of whatever it was she was saying.

So it was Talon. The people who took away Gerard and Amélie, the people who plunged the world into chaos. The very organization she hated with every fiber of her being. The one thing she could hate completely without feeling bad about it. She usually gave things chances, but this was one she would never see the good in.


	2. Asunder

Lena lay on her back, legs going back and forth back and forth off of the side of her bed. She took the piece of paper she had found earlier and attempted to decipher it. She could tell this wasn’t a normal language. It was some strange code. Usually she was good at figuring puzzles out, but this one was a toughy. She squinted her eyes again, wondering if it created an image. No. She held it up to the sunlight coming in through the narrow window. Vague letters shown through, making this make tons more sense. She turned it around a few times, finding the exact way to hold it. Now it was confusing. She had almost had it too!

“Two doves.” She started, her eyes nearly burning holes through the paper. “Asunder.” Huh. “Without light they fade.” She searched the rest, unable to find anything. Then she took it away from the light, her eyes suddenly noting another cluster of words.

“And in the dark they are just blackbirds.” She gasped, her breath gone. “When the rainbow hits the void. Time is lost, their meaning unknown. Sunlight behind the dark curtain. Signed, Blackbird?” She regained her breath, intrigue hushing any sort of excitement of figuring this out. Who or what were the two doves? What separated them?

“And in the dark they are just blackbirds.” She repeated again, shaking her head. That had hit her in a strange way. What did that even mean? Doves were white, doves represented love and doves were pure. In the dark they would be darker, yeah. Which meant something wasn’t how it was cracked up to be. Right? But why was this Blackbird writing to Angela? Or anyone here? Confusion ate at her until she couldn’t sit still any longer.

Lena jolted upward, blinking around her room until she felt tired of it’s rectangular shape. Walking, that would help. Walking always cleared her mind. She always found herself in the same places though, but for some reason that was always better than being in her own room.

She took a slow pace, walking down the corridors until making it to rooms she had seen multiple times. Though these rooms were familiar, something felt off. Something felt very very off. She felt as though she was being watched by something. The hall had suddenly taken on a distorted feeling. She grabbed her chronal accelerator with her hands, making sure it was still firmly on her chest. It felt secure, so it wasn’t that. She let out a sigh, it caught in her throat. Something had darted in front of her.

“Winston, come in.” She hissed, thanking everything she could that she had brought her comm.

“Tracer you know these lines are only used for emergency only. Hello, if that’s what you were about to say.” He responded with a quiet groan.

“No, Winston listen. There’s something here.” She silently edged forward, her heart’s beat nearly taking her hearing. “Someone.” Her voice grew quieter.

“That’s ab… that’s strange.” Crackling followed, then his voice came back, “Where are you, Tracer?”

“Residential. Section C.” She replied back, skirting the wall until she could safely peer around the corner into the room.

“That’s very odd… there’s a heat signature directly above you.” His voice was cut off just as the ceiling tiles collapsed, feet breaking down towards her.

She blinked backward, nearly falling, yet she made it look strategic. C’mon Lena, get yourself together. “Oi, whatcha doing here?”  
No response.

“Cat got your tongue?” She asked the backside of the person standing before her. She blinked backward more, leaving room in case any others were present.

The figure turned around, they wore the same logo as the holograph. Just as they made a full three-sixty the silvery haired soldier slid into view, dishing out bullets.

The talon merc slid into the room, their leg hitting the brunt of the fire. Lena followed, going behind them.

“Nuh-uhn I don’t think so!” She grabbed them around their midsection, grabbing the guns that lay in the holsters. “Silly birdie.”

She felt stabbing pain in her stomach, her eyes widened. Recall. Just Recall. No. She couldn’t recall, not after having them. Not after Mondatta’s death. She would just have to grin and bear the pain until they could subdue them.

“That’s not very nice, y’know?” She pushed her full weight down on them, the two of them taking the floor full force. She could feel the stabbing pain increase. Recall. No. Not yet. “Jack, mind getting this lil gu--” The sound of explosions followed by the creaking of the building giving way entered her ears. Her body moved upward and then backward until standing directly in the doorway, her stomach still bled. “What gives?” More explosions. It was a mix of explosive charges and rockets. Wait, rockets?

Lena held onto her stomach, squishing her tanktop into the wound in hopes that it would stop bleeding. She was hit backward by the force of another explosion. This one was a projectile. A large gaping hole lay in the concrete wall, smoke bellowed from the inside out, the rebar was exposed, pieces of plaster and concrete clinging to it fell to the Earth below.

“Blimey.” She hissed, picking herself off of the wall behind her in order to face whatever threat lay next. Her head was spinning, but that was okay. She could just walk it off right?

Jack bolted past her, running to face the hole. A woman in black and red armor flew high above, staring down at them as if they were her prey. Jack let out a gruff growl, tossing himself out from the hole and into the air, falling short. He shot upward at the armored beast. He missed by mere inches, hitting the pylons on the mountain behind them instead. One pylon began to utter a shrieking noise, gravity took it, and it fell off and into the other. One by one each pylon plummeted towards the Earth and towards the barrage of soldiers.

Lena closed her eyes and opened them in confusion. Just as she was ready to run off and help, she felt a cold pinch hit in neck.

“It will all make sense soon, sleep well, liebling.” That voice-- it just melted into the dark like it was fake, a dream, a construct of the mind. She fought against the urge to sleep, she fought and fought and fought until her stomach shrieked out in pain and her face was buried in the concrete wall. She began to smell her own blood as her entire being went into a forced form of sleep.

“Wake up!” She screamed at herself within her head, the images of what happened before and then things that happened during her time of displacement entered her head into jumbled instances. She attempted to focus on the good memories, but each ended in distorted horrors. “Tracer wake up.” Her attempts at waking herself up became feeble as she felt something being pumped into her bloodstream. “...Tra...cer...wake…..up..”

She could only hear herself whisper, her heartbeat dying in noise. She saw a light, a very large light, it was warm and made her feel good. She gravitated towards it until everything fell out from beneath her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short.  
> They'll get progressively longer with time!


	3. Without Light They Fade

Rain pelted full force on her head. The sound of a whirring engine disrupted her enough to throw her awake. Lena let out a choking gasp, her eyes opening wider than she thought possible, her heart raced out of her chest. A series of dropships flew overhead, the small bit of light apparent in the clouds were blotted out. She felt the ground beneath her move, vibrate even. She realized she was looking out the door of a quickly closing ship. The rain ceased and all light vanished. Overhead lights blared into her eyes, the feeling of multiple people moving her very carefully became apparent. The numbness that once almost lulled her back to sleep had almost completely shattered, leaving her in state of paralysis.  
Her body was ungracefully moved through a thin gap between stations. She could hear a distant voice snapping at whomever let her slip. She could see the hazy shape of a blonde haired figure, coming over to her. She felt cold hands take hold of her face, the blonde woman bending over to steady whomever held her face in place.

“What’s...happeni--” She barely let out in a hushed voice, slur evident to her own ears. So she sounded like a bloody drunk woman. Wonderful. C’mon Lena, wake up more so you can take these people down, show em’ what you’re made of, yeah? She attempted to move an arm, the pain was enough to make anyone regret that decision. “I’m….T...racer...and I’m gonna.. .break out I hope ya know that.” She let out a rather fabulous giggle, one that was for the record books of being the weirdest thing she had heard.

“Shhhh, hand me another. She’s almost broken free from the sedative.” That voice, it was familiar. It came from the blonde woman.

“I forgot how resilient she was, Doctor Ziegler.” Another female’s voice entered her ears, familiar as well, but rather different. Maybe it was the fact she was on the edge of passing out?

“Dearest Lena, you must sleep. That injury is no good.” Another prick, what was she expecting? She nearly dies and now she’s back into sedative craziness. Fun. At least that’s what her mind could pick up on. Either that or she was just experiencing really fun nightmares.  
When she awoke again, she felt no weight on her chest-- but her stomach sure as hell hurt. She wore what seemed like a medical gown, but it was all a haze. Then she realized, her chronal accelerator wasn’t present. Panic seized her body up. She attempted to talk, but the panic decided to take her throat into a strangle hold.

“Good you’re awake. To wonder why they ever confined you to such a piece of junk.” A rather light hearted laugh followed. “Thankfully you’re free now.”  
She saw blonde locks of hair and then matched the voice to the face. “Doctor Ziegler?” She attempted to sit up, the IV in her arm very slightly tugging when she did so.

“No no no, don’t sit up. That won’t let your stomach heal.” She shook her head, writing something down onto a clipboard.

“So Doctor Ziegler that was you?” She wondered aloud. “What was that about my accelerator?” The haziness still hadn’t departed her eyes. Her veins felt like ice was being pumped through them. She desperately wanted the haziness to fade away, but she couldn’t find the correct words to say or find actions to fix this herself.

“Yes that was me, frau.” Her voice pooled into calmness, leaving no room for question. “Ah yes, your accelerator. It was useless in the way they had created it.” That word, she had used that word just as Jack had used it towards Talon.

She squinted, yawning, and then grew rather confused. “Who’s… they?” She itched at her arm, attempting to fathom what the answer was going to be. She knew Talon hadn’t created her accelerator. It had been Winston. But that could only-- no. She couldn’t think that way. That wasn’t any way to think. Angela Ziegler was not one to suddenly change her mind on something she so firmly believed in.

“If I told you, you would resent me. That’s only natural. Especially for their posterchild. They make you think everything is wonderful, they empower you to represent good. You keep getting told over and over that everything is working just the way it was supposed to. You get spoonfed what you want to hear.” A look of disgust and sadness drilled itself into her eyes. “You poor poor woman.”  
“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying… because what you’re saying is insane, yeah? You can’t think that way. That just isn’t right.” There it was, that fire. The coldness seemed to slither away once she started feeling this way.

“Ms. Oxton, I feel so bad for you.” She grabbed hold of one of Tracer’s hands, warmth seething into them almost instantly.

“No, Doctor Ziegler I feel bad for you.” She lowered her voice, “You can’t believe that this is true, can you?” She looked into her eyes with effort. “Can you?”

Angela shook her head, looking down at the tiled floor. “At first, I was just like you. I couldn’t fathom this ever happening. Then she found me, grabbed me by the hand and whispered...run. Then it all started to pile together into a puzzle, the pieces just had to be found. Then they began to fall together, into pictures I couldn’t believe. And then I knew, Overwatch wasn’t at all what I thought it was. It was a monster, fueled on idealistic thoughts. A mission of self destruction, a mission to release chaos on the world and not apologize once. I-”

Her sentence was disrupted by the rapping on the door to the room, it almost fell into rhythm with the rain pelting the windows.  
“Come in.” Angela’s hushed voice echoed aimlessly in the small room, the door opened, cold air forced its way into the room.

Tracer looked up, her face flushing even more. The panic in her body began to devour at each and every single part of her. This had to be some sort of sick prank-- or even a nightmare.

“Huh, you’re awake.” Fareeha smiled brightly, a somberness lingering in her soft brown eyes.

Lena’s breath was taken from her lungs and discarded. Fareeha? She believed in protecting the innocent from harm, free will, and justice for all who deserved it. How. Could. She? Even she left Overwatch to become apart of this? What sort of game was this? How could this even be reality? Her body rocked with shaking sobs, ones without tears. Either that or she couldn’t control herself anymore. She hated this-- this feeling of wanting to slip away into tears like a child. She loved it when others could show emotions without restriction, but she felt like she couldn’t. Because she wasn’t allowed to be weak. She was the one who went through the traumatic experience and endured! She was brave.  
There had to be some logical explanation, right? Their voices dissolved as she plunged into her mind to figure things out. Was this some sort of strategic exercise? A plot to spy within the confines of the enemy organization? Or was this truly what they had been reduced to? They had been taken just like Amélie had. Was that it? Had their wills been broken? Brainwashed?

“Then what about her?” She asked, the two of them looking at her like her question had come out of left field. “Amélie. Explain that.”

Fareeha looked off into the distance, Angela mirroring that. They both seemed rattled by that question.

“Please. I need to know. Because if ya really want to convince me, you have to tell me all of these ‘truths’ you have.” Lena glared, knowing all too well that running out of here or fighting her way back to Gibraltar were bad ideas. So speaking out was all she could do.

“Lacroix, well, remember her husband? Gérard?” Angela began, continuing as soon as Lena nodded. “He was a pivotal point in Overwatch’s success. Seeing as he helped found this organization. However, he had another perspective. The one you have today. He wanted peace between the omnic and humankind. However, as commanders changed and roles shifted, so did their ideas. Overwatch became something of a horror film. A nightmare.” Her hold on Lena’s hand became tighter. “Overwatch hired mercenaries to end Gérard’s life and pin it on Talon. So they personally took his wife away from him to keep him under control. Seeing as that only worked for a little while, they ended up twisting her brain into something horrific. Then weeks later they ‘found her’ at an abandoned Talon warehouse, knowing full well that Amélie would murder him and take care of any loose ends. However, what they didn’t take into consideration, was that their little assassin would slip through their fingers and find a way into Talon.” She shifted in her seat, watching Lena very closely.

“And if I believed this… twisted fairy tale? What of Mondatta?” She remembered the cries of panic and fear as he was shot down by Widowmaker.

“That wasn’t Mondatta. The real Mondatta died far before this. Government organizations crafted a new ‘Mondatta’ in order to coax the people into thinking that Omnic and Human peace was still strong. That absolutely nothing could leak through and harm innocent lives again.” She looked away, letting out a rather long sigh. Fareeha put a hand to her shoulder, rubbing it delicately.

“Well if this isn’t the absolute best tall tale I’ve heard in a long time. Can you tell me the one about bigfoot too? How about the lil’ omnic who could?” Venom was apparent in Tracer’s voice, disbelief falling evenly across her face.

“Then I guess me telling you about the Slipstream cover up wouldn’t change a thing.” Fareeha spoke up, looking towards the door and then to her.

“There was only a cover up so that people wouldn’t lose hope. That’s the only cover up.” She countered sourly.

“Not quite. From the time you vanished to the time you reappeared. Talon looked for you. Overwatch? Called it a failed experiment and moved on. When you showed back up, Overwatch got you first. They attempted to help you, confining you to a room. You were trapped in a waiting game, yes? All the while they studied you. Watched you suffer.” She shivered in anger, Angela’s calming hand disrupted her thoughts, leaving her silent.

“They confined you to a harness, leaving you grounded. However they never once told you that it would hinder you more than help you. It was fragmenting you, Lena. It was destroying you. It held you back from doing anything other than prolonging your next disappearance. So we gave you a new one. This time you won’t suffer as much. This time you can finally control you.”  
Lena looked down, her eyes finally sharpening up enough to notice the warm orange glow emanating from her chest. “So you added a built in light? Finally I can find my way to the loo without tripping over my own feet.”  
“Oxton, it will take time. But I think you’ll-- get it.” Fareeha stood, saluting to her rather quickly, not really acknowledging the fact that she was just given a quick peck to the cheek. She left the room without any further explanation, leaving Lena rather confused.

“Then what about all of the innocents murdered in Talon raids?” She asked, looking back up, staring into the wall.

“Casualties of war. They weren’t able to be prevented.” Her voice was rather cold in that sentence. As if she couldn’t accept that statement herself.

“What about all of the children orphaned and the women and men who died in front of them? What would all of the people who couldn’t defend themselves?” Good job Lena, keep digging in until you break that lie she’s attempting to believe.

“That’s enough, Lena.” Angela hissed, emotion apparent in her voice. Her lips ever so slightly quivered. “You need rest, your stomach won’t heal itself.” She stood, leaving the room, the door clicking shut, locked.


	4. And In The Dark

For the next days Lena was bitter, they had left her mostly alone. The only times she ever saw anyone were when a rather generic doctor would force her up and into a small room to quickly get herself ready for the next day and then give her food to eat and small capsules to take down with water. Which-- at first, she would refuse to take. Poison! Or some form of miniature brainwashing tools! She would only eat small portions of the food, and drink only a fourth of the glass of water. To her dismay, her body became even weaker.

One day Angela came back, her face full of concern for her patient and for her friend.

“You’re almost skin and bones, Lena. You have to eat.”

“I’d rather die than live a lie.” She chimed back, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

“You can have your heavily medicated food.” She hung her head, laughing rather absently.

“Then I’ll just have to invite a guest to watch you.” Another day past, this guest never arrived and Tracer at no more than a few scoopfuls of whatever this glop was. However, that night she was greeted by a presence. She didn’t speak, hopefully convincing whoever was there that she was asleep. But whoever it was was too smart. A small laugh clutched the darkness, sending a small chill down Tracer’s spine. She could feel their cold breath on her face. It would be hard to sleep tonight.

When she awoke whomever it was had gone, temporarily it seemed. A black scarf hung over the rolling chair nearest her bed, a cup of coffee sitting on the desk. Steam still rose from within the cup, the smell hanging on the air around her. Her morning’s breakfast sat on the side table nearest to her.

Fine, she’d eat it this time. What did she have to lose? She slid the side table closer, folding it over her so she could sit up and eat. She scoot upward, her body shaking with every motion, her stomach wound aching as if she were being stabbed once again. Her hand maneuvered over to the utensil, a spork. Sporks were funny things. Both a spoon and a fork, both used for the same thing but in different ways. Was that what Talon and Overwatch were? Using her for the same thing but in different ways? Had Angela convinced her? No, not even close. She took up a large spoon full of warm mush, tasting it thoroughly before swallowing.

The door opened as she did this, a woman with piercing yellow eyes walked in, closing it behind her quietly. Lena spat out the mush, bits hitting the foot of her bed, her front and worst of all, almost taking the woman as victim too.

“Bonjour to you too, annoyance.” She hissed, glaring at her with a refined fire. “Now actually eat the food instead of spitting it onto me. _Merci beaucoup._ ” She walked carefully over to her seat, sitting down very subtly and then grabbing the scarf from the back. She wrapped it around her neck until she was sufficiently happy.

“What are you doing here?” Lena’s hand was suspended in mid air, eating had become second on the list. “And no you can’t give me the, ‘I am stationed here!’ Answer or I’ll-- I’ll..”

“You’ll what? Flail your arms until I grow tired of watching?” She retorted softly, smirking vividly in her direction. She took the mug to her lips, sipping it ever so gingerly. The long sleeve of her turtleneck slid down her arm, revealing a small portion of her tattoo.

Lena could only grumble, taking slow bites from what she was given. The only things that made her wary were the spider and that small pill. She wished that grumpy woman wasn’t so right. Her cheeks turned a dark red, her usually spiked hair drooping down over her right eye. Finally her hair saved the day instead of being stupid. She hated feeling embarrassment, especially in front of her enemies. “Did they send you to keep telling me fictional tales?”

“They stationed me here.” She smiled ever so sweetly, rolling her eyes and then following that up with a rather wicked chuckle. “I still cannot understand how you of all people could so easily believe a story.”

“So I was right, then huh? Overwatch is good, Talon is bad. Everything is right in the world!” She laughed triumphantly. If only it were that easy, Lena. “It is so much more complicated than that. The world is not as simple as a child’s storybook. I honestly thought you were smarter than that, Lena.” She scoffed, glaring at her with cold daggers for eyes.

The Brit was at a severe loss for words. One, she was wrong again. Talon was apparently good and Overwatch was some evil menace. Two, that spider remembered her name somehow or someone told her… or she had one of those name things outside her door. She finished her food, staring at the pill then back up at Widowmaker. “What even is this?”

“It’s most likely a supplement and some form of medication to speed up your healing.” Her voice shifted to one that was rather consistent and even-toned.

“So it’s not some evil brainwashing, destroy your brain, drug thingy?” Her voice became rather childish.

“What on Earth? Non. Are you even serious?” Was that a small smile forming? It died before it became anything more.

“Oi! How should I know?” She felt anger hit her stomach, she grabbed the pill, took it to her lips, and swallowed it without water. The regret she felt afterward was immense. Never take a pill without water again. Ever.

“Is this determination or stupidity?” Widow poked at her in a rather curious tone, her eyes falling to slits. “Or are you so intelligent that you’re playing me. . . Hmm.”

“Determination. Perseverance. Bravery.” She puffed out her chest, the pressure causing pain beyond pain. She lay back down, feeling putout.

“Stupidity.” She hissed, taking another long sip. What? Was that a bottomless cup of coffee? _Had Talon improved that too?_

“As soon as I heal up, I’ll bust right out of here, you’ll see. Then I’ll take out all of Talon with one swift swooping motion and save the Earth.” Even her smile was enough to tell Widowmaker that she wasn’t even close to being strong enough to do that. If she couldn’t even convince herself, then maybe there was no convincing to be done at all.

“Unless you got another fun story for me to listen to.”

“Yes of course, I have many stories.” She paused, attempting to build some form of excitement.

“You know that monkey?”

“Winston?” She asked, looking appalled. “He’s not a monkey!”

“Whatever. Oui, Winston. Truthfully he works for Vishkar Industries. He is their chairman.” She kept her face completely emotionless.

“And I’m the Queen of England.” She retorted. “Don’t make me throw food at you again, spider.”

“At least I found humor in that.” She sat back, folding her arms close to her chest.

“Seriously, tell me. Is there anything else I should know?” Lena now genuinely felt the need to ask. Half of her knew that she wouldn’t get a thing out of her, but the other felt like if she kept prying she might be able to get something out of this.

“All I can tell you, is that you need to figure things out firsthand. If you continue going off what others say, you won’t come to your own conclusion. Stories and recollections may be helpful, but experiencing the real thing will most certainly aid you.” She sounded a bit like Zenyatta in that instance, huh.

Widow scoot back, sitting in silence, eyes never once leaving Tracer.

Maybe she’d try it, maybe she’d actually listen to her. “Okay, Amélie I’m in.”

A visible cringe came from the ice cold woman.

“Widowmaker, I meant… _Widowmaker_.”


	5. They Are Just Blackbirds

Weeks felt like years to the fidgit prone Brit. She couldn’t stand being bedridden for so long. Strangely, she could stand the constant nagging company of her handler. Thankfully today was the day that Angela had promised to tell her if she was healed up enough to do anything other than laying in bed. 

 

She sat up off the side of the bed, her legs dangling from the edge. She bounced up and down, hoping that she got the all clear and maybe maybe could change back into her regular attire. This hospital gown was giving her a migraine. 

 

“Your vitals seem stable, heart rate normal, eyes are reactive, limbs seem weak but with a bit of work that can be changed.” She let out an annoyed sigh yet relieved sigh. “You seem good to go. But I wouldn’t push it, or you’ll strain yourself just enough.” She looked to Widowmaker, who stood in the corner. “And you, Widowmaker, please continue to watch her.”   
  
“It is my job, Doctor.” A sharp glare followed, her arms tightly to her sides. She never ever seemed too happy about this whole thing.

 

“Does that mean I can leave, Doctor Ziegler?” She bounced up and down harder, eyes sparkling ever so wonderfully.

 

“Unfortunately, you cannot leave the facility just yet. You have to still make that decision, frau. I cannot allow you to go back into their clutches.” She grabbed a black bag from behind her, setting it into Lena’s lap. It was rather heavy whatever it was.

 

She hoped it was her clothes, or something, anything but this hospital gown. 

 

“We have provided better wears for you, Tracer. Your old clothes were torn up and bloodied. Hopefully you find them better than your hospital gown.” Angela managed a smile, slipping from the room shortly after so she didn’t have to hear any complaints. 

 

“I will be outside. Knock when you wish to come with me.” The spider stood, following Angela, the door locking once again. 

 

Lena opened the bag slowly but surely, wondering what they’d want her to wear here. In the back of her head she thought: “Great I wonder if this’ll be like that spider. Or that grumpy Gabe.” She stood, her bare feet hitting the cold tile floor, sending shockwaves up her back. She lay out a dark brown leather jacket with a red inside. On the arm lay a rather obvious Talon logo, she growled at it, hating the fact that she was to wear their logo of all things. It was like she had agreed to join up, when she’d never do that. Next was a rather ominous looking armor piece, something she’d have to wear-- what about that whole mobility thing? She shook her head, grabbing out whatever came next. A pair of blood red leggings with her callsign on the leg, what had they special ordered this from one of their sweatshops? Then a pair of shoes that looked a lot like her old ones. She emptied the bag and glared blankly at all of it. She’d play their games, wear their clothes, but she wouldn’t silence herself. No. Never.

 

She got dressed rather quickly, awkwardly slipping into all of it. It didn’t feel right to her, and worse of all she resembled some super villain. Fun. Now all she needed was the evil ray guns and the cackle. She slipped the goggles around her neck, not willing to wear them. They looked like boxy ski goggles! Lena cracked her knuckles, hand hesitating above the surface of the door. Once she knocked she would be allowed into their world. That was something she never thought would happen. 

 

Her fist hit against the metallic surface of the door, needles hitting her hands in cold. The door opened, revealing a rather impatient Widowmaker. “Where are we off to, spidy?”   
  
“Just follow me and don’t ask questions. Whatever you do, don’t call me that again. Just stay close to me. There will be curious onlookers.” She whispered the last bit, and began to walk down a rather dim hallway, through a medical bay area and into another long corridor. 

 

Things were rather weird here in comparison, everything was like a mirror image to an Overwatch watchpoint. Things seemed less streamline, a little more open but less empty. People walked by, soldiers rushed by, people she didn’t recognize skirted by them as they moved upstream. A man she knew by Reaper was one of them who walked by, he caught her eye as he did so. However instead of an angry or hateful mood he sent her some form of regret. She was confused. Well, everything was confusing. One thing at a time, Lena. One thing at a time. 

 

This seemed like it was taking forever, and she hated it. She would complain, but complaining would only make the process of going wherever they were, lengthier. They rounded a corner, entering a deserted room. It mirrored that of a warehouse, but it was rather amazing.  _ For a Talon base.  _ The door shut behind them with a crisp clunk of metal on metal. 

 

“I cannot believe they’re permitting you to use weapons.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “But here we are, the weapons range.”   
  
“So I get my blasters back, yeah?” Lena asked excitedly, looking all around for the familiar white design.

  
“In a way, yes.” She ushered her over to a table top, two almost recognizable guns lay there. “These are your’s.”    
  
Lena picked them up, holding them tightly in her hands, they felt very different. Lighter? She spun them around on her fingers like she was some circus act. Then she put them into the holsters on her new uniform. She grinned childishly, grabbing for them and then saying, “Draw.” She spun one out, shooting at a target across the room. Her aim was off, but it still felt good to fire a weapon. 

  
“You are not a cowboy, chérie. This is not the time to fool around. We’re here to see if you can control your new…  _ accelerator. _ ” Widow groaned ever so quietly, leaning against the wall. 

 

Lena nodded, “Yeah. You’re right I haven’t tried doing anything with it yet. Who knows if they did it right.” She closed her eyes, letting out a breath. Right. Blinking. She cleared her head of all doubt, imagining herself as the only one in the room. She took a running start, her body shooting forward in timely bursts of energy. She now stood at the back of the room, opening her eyes. Recall. She ran forward again, then her body shot backward to half way across the room. A pleasant giggle exploded from her lips. It didn’t tell her to wait to charge it. She didn’t feel all woozy like with her previous installment. “They did it right! What the hell? They did it right.” She put her guns back into the holsters at her hips.

 

“Of course, they wouldn’t just give you a piece of trash.” She watched her intently, noticing she shivered.

 

“Do they always have the air conditioner up this high?” She hugged herself, shivering even harder now.    
  
“I didn’t even notice.” The sniper walked over to her side, slipping the black scarf from her neck. “Hold still.” She put the scarf around Lena’s neck, tucking it in around her and then pulling it snug. 

 

“Thanks, luv.” Her cheeks reddened, her hair springing up and down as she looked up at the blue woman. 

“Acknowledged.” She smirked, patting her on the head. 

 

“What was that for? I’m not your pet!” She stamped her foot in protest.   
  
“Good girl.” A genuine smile filled her face, not one of those fooling around ones either. The kind that absolutely horrified you. Especially when someone never smiled like that.   
  
Lena looked away, blinking behind her then in front of her then behind her again. Widow stood in one place, not once looking around.    
  
“You’re no fun.” She pouted, blinking up onto a platform. 

 

“That’s because you should be practicing.”  She shrugged.   
  
“Fine, I’ll do that. What do I fire at?” Lena hopped off the platform and down back where Widow was.    
  
She punched in a code on a panel, a myriad of targets projected up from the floor. “Shoot at these. They’ll track your accuracy.”    
  
“Seems easy. Should I be stationary or can I get right at em?” She took them out from their holders.   
  
“Stationary for now. Then I’ll give you a challenge.” Her hands went to Tracer’s shoulders. “But first you need to be completely still. Shaking like this will not get you on target.”   
  
“That’s fine with me, luv. Just make sure you don’t get knocked back.” She smirked, closing one eye. 

 

She put her arms up, a target coming before her. She shot, but she missed by inches. She was shaking too much. She felt Widow’s hands slip down, grabbing her arms now, steadying them.   
  
“Again.” She whispered into her ear, she could feel her lips touch the surface.

  
Tracer shivered harder, letting out a sigh to steady herself more. She took another shot, hitting it perfectly and square in the jaw at that. 

 

“Yes!” She focused on the next target, hitting it again. Then the next and the next.    
  


“Focus, Oxton.” She leaned her face against her’s, her body steadied even further.   
  
She could practically melt into her body at this point, but she had to continue practicing her shot.    
  
“One more and you can then continue with the next course.” She assured her, slowly letting go.   
  
Something inside of her didn’t want to pull away, but she knew it was for the best. “Understood.”   
  
She finished off the next targets, and then the next course was presented.    
  
“Off you go,  _ Tracer _ .” 

 

“I’ll get a new record, luv. Just watch.” Her body shot off like a rocket, up and down, upside down, circling around each target and taking them down shot by shot. Until she was left alone in the center of the large warehouse. She huffed and puffed, putting her hands on her knees. “How was that?”    
  
“ _ Amateur _ .” 

  
“It was better than that. Probably professional. Something Talon’s never seen before.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Boy she was tuckered out.   
  
“Tired already? You already exceeded my expectations.” 

 

“Really?” Now that was something else to hear.    
  
“Oui, now don’t dwell on that.” She walked over to the door, opening it ajar. “Ah, Lena, your  **cohorts** are here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like I'm addicted to short chapters or something~


	6. When The Rainbow

“My who?” She said, her jaw hitting the floor as a group of people filed in. Fareeha, followed by Angela, then Gabriel, Jesse, Mei and finally Genji. 

 

“Howdy, Lena. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” He gripped at his belt buckle, the Bamf replaced with a T. 

 

Gabriel bowed his head, Mei smiled shyly, Fareeha and Angela were silent and Genji bowed to her. 

 

So they had ended up here too. Sickness hit her stomach, her knees growing woozy. It was half because she was so tired, and half because her fears were confirmed. Was she really starting to believe this? Was she  _ mad _ ? The feeling of a hand gently patting her side had caused her to burst from her thoughts. Why was the spider of all people doing that? She remembered her words and let out a sigh. She’d have to decide this for herself. Find it all out herself. Could she even do that? What was even real anymore?

 

“Hiya..” Her enthusiastic was lacking so the last bit of her greeting fell flat. She lifted a hand, waving it stiffly.   
  
“Are you alright, Lena?” Genji asked in a rather soothing voice.

 

“Right as rain.” Lena returned, piecing a smile together on her face.

 

“This must be a lot for you, Tracer. I just hope you decide to stay with us. I don’t want to lose you.” Mei stepped forward, letting her voice rise above the previous silence.

 

“That’s sweet of you, luv. Thanks for caring.” Her waving hand went behind her neck, her fingers clamping onto it in awkwardness. 

 

In the new blanket of silence she took the time to look over all of them. They all looked so much more different, eerily so. They contained a strange mixture of familiarity and yet they were so off from what they once were. Had her chronal accelerator malfunctioned and brought her to some strange place? No, not this time. She looked back down at herself, it was set in her chest. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not unless she willed it. She clinched her fists, her face paling. She felt her legs cave in, fear clutched her stomach. Instead of falling to the ground she was grabbed by widow instead. Exhaustion gripped her eyes and head. 

 

“Tracer--” All of them seemingly said one after the other. 

 

“Promise me, you aren’t all brainwashed.” She said aloud, smiling sickly.    
  
“Believe me.” Widow whispered, “I know reprogramming. This is not it.” 

 

A visible chill went down Lena’s backside, her body twitching with it. Something broke within her, something shattered her. She didn’t want to be afraid anymore, the deeper she went into this, the stranger it got. Half of her wanted to fall into eternal sleep and die believing that Overwatch was right, the other wanted to succumb to the truth rather than fall into the web of lies. 

 

“Justice…” She started woozily, her head starting to spin now. “As long as we bring justice to them, I can feel better about this…” 

  
“Of course, Lena. We’ll bring them to justice. We’ll liberate those who fell into their lies and show them that they were led astray.” Fareeha spoke up, walking over to the two. She put her hand out to her. “Will you join this cause?”    
  
She hesitated, realizing that once she took Fareeha’s hand there was no turning back. That she accepted Overwatch wasn’t right. That she accepted everything she was told was a lie. Her hand trembled as she brought it forward to meet her’s. She grabbed it, weakly accepting it. 

 

“I will.”  Her stomach clinched. “I need to lay down now. Or I might… just… you know.”    
  
“I will take care of her.” Widow reluctantly hissed, grabbing her up a bit better. “I’ll take her somewhere less sterile.” 

 

Angela’s brow quirked, her head nodding up and down at this.   
  
“That would be lovely.” Lena breathed. 

  
Her legs could barely work by this point, either it was the fact that she overly disgusted herself with her decision or it was the sheer lack of any activity for a few weeks that had done her in. Both, it was both. Blimey, her head hurt. Widowmaker had to practically drag her alongside.

 

“Please at least try to walk. I don’t want to lift dead weight, but it wouldn’t be the first time.” Her words slid off of her tongue.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice was in that line between slurring and clarity. She sounded really stupid.

 

“Hush.” She hissed, stopping at a set of doors.  She opened them, dragging the overly tired lug into the darkness. The blinds automatically opened revealing a bit of light to illuminate the once mysterious room. 

 

“Is this your room? It’s kinda funny you’d take me here.” She walked on her own to the edge of the bed, she sat down sloppily, everything starting to spin again. The amount of tired she was, was stupid. She had only done some small training exercises! “Like funny really…I can English,  promise…”   
  


Widowmaker didn’t answer her, rather force her backward onto the soft blanket atop her bed. She slid her body to the end, resting her on the pillow. “Sleep.”   
  
“But ya didn’t answer my question…” She yawned, closing her eyes. As soon as her lids met, she was out.

 

Her dream began in a grassy field, a woman with long raven black hair stood with her back to her. She looked down at herself, she was wearing what she wore before she would go off a pilot the Slipstream. The woman turned around, her eyes not visible no matter how much she tried to focus of them. She felt something go around her neck, it was soft whatever it was. Soon she was able to make light of what was happening. A white scarf was being wrapped around her neck. She felt a kiss hit her cheek and linger there, becoming colder and colder until she looked around her and saw destruction. She could smell ash hanging in the air, the woman in front of her turned blue, her eyes visible. She put her hand out to her, noticing that she looked afraid, but no matter how many times she called, the woman couldn’t hear her. Her screams became muffled, the woman getting farther away until she finally looked towards Tracer full view. It was too late. Then she peered down at herself again, a blue light came from her chest. Worry filled her body. She saw the woman again, this time they were fighting. Then it ended with her looking at herself now, everything around her coming together to comfort her. 

 

When she awoke she felt better about her decision. An audible gasp came from her when she opened her eyes. She was frozen with fear at this point over the fact that Widow had somehow managed to fall asleep next to her.   
  
“You silly spider…” She murmured, poking at her.   
  
“ _ Merde _ .” She breathed, sitting up stiffly. 

 

“Did ya mean to do that?” She sat up alongside her, smirking.   
  
“Oui, falling asleep next to the one you’re supposed to be watching is obviously a very intelligent decision.” She noticeably dug her nails into her hand.   
  
Lena yawned, slipping off of the bed and into a standing position. “Are you freezing cold or is it just me?” No answer. “Oops is that a sore subject? I’m pretty good at bringing those things up.” She chuckled, cracking her neck and back.

 

“Stop where you were going with that.” Her voice acted as a whip, hitting Tracer in the back.   
  
“You bet I will. Nothing happened. You never fell asleep and uh.. Yeah.” Her smile broadened. 

 

“Tell me something.” She began, her hand clutching the warmth of the blankets where Lena once lay. “Why were you saying that name in your sleep?”   
  
“What name?” Tracer was rather perplexed.   
  
Widow sighed, looking off at nothing. “ Amélie. Why were you talking about her?”   
  
“I dunno, I guess I was sorta dreaming about her. I remembered something that sorta slipped my mind before. You know how I was in that accident? Well before that, you-- ... _ She  _ had given me a scarf a lot like this one. Told me it was for good luck. It’s kinda funny how that worked out.” She finished, her hands clutched tightly onto the scarf.   
  
“I remember that.” She admit, looking up at Lena. “You were so excited and nervous. So I gave you a scarf to remember me by.”

 

A faint smile replaced the previously huge grin. “So they didn’t erase all of you.”   
  
She heard a sigh in reply, “I don’t really even know who I am anymore.”   
  
“Take your time, you know? Don’t rush into finding who you are. Take baby steps. I think then you’ll know.” She faced her, a look of care spreading delicately across her features. “I’ll help if ya need it.”   
  
“Help.” She laughed, shaking her head. “We’ll see if I ever become weak enough to need it.”   
  
“Asking for help is the strongest thing, you know.” She retorted quickly.

__  
Having such a casual yet deep conversation with the woman that murdered the false Mondatta, who she had thought was real at the time, was strange. Especially since she once knew this same person years before, but as someone completely different. It was a really hard thing to wrap around your head. Her ear pricked, she could hear small murmurings from somewhere. Oh. __  
  
Widow put a finger to her ear. “Ah, it seems Morrison is going to pay us a visit soon.”    
  
“Already? I thought he said he wanted to sit and wait until they all returned to him. Or was that a lie too?” She walked towards the door.   
  
Widow didn’t answer her, however she did get up as well. “Are you ready to face them?”   
  
“ _ No, but can you ever  _ **_really_ ** __ be ready ?”  


	7. Hits the Void

She was really something else, someone who could make you cookies and sit down with someone by the fire, but also someone who could take a person out if they attempted something. She wasn’t something to be taken advantage of, or something you could be intimidated by if one was were  _ on her side.  _

 

The older woman sat on the edge of the roof, hugging herself. Everything around her had vanished in a torrent of violent possibilities. That attack on Gibraltar. Her daughter. That look in her eyes. It made her heart ache far more than it had ever before. She shut her eye, feeling the coldness of the sea air bite at her nose and cheeks. She licked her lips free of salt, feeling a spare tear welling up in her good eye. 

 

Her mind was taken back to the moment she hesitated to take out Widowmaker. If only she had taken the shot-- stopped feeling so bad for her for that moment, then maybe Fareeha would have stayed. It wasn’t her fault they had twisted Amelie to become such a monster. She wasn’t involved. It’s not like she had watched her scream out in pain-- or was made to administer medicine to her while she went through reprograming. Of course not. 

 

_ However, that was a lie. _

 

“No.” She choked, shaking her head.

 

She had told herself thousands of times before to forget her guilt, to wipe her face free of that lingering emotion. She had been struck by multiple arrows since then. Jack’s death, Loss of her eye, Her own death, the sound of her daughter in the room next to her but her unable to interject, Amélie’s programming, the death of Gérard, and Gabriel Reyes, yet still so many more instances.    
  
**_“Fareeha I’ll always protect you.”_ ** ****_  
  
_

Those words struck her with so much force that her body threatened to just slide off of the roof. She could never even dream of protecting her daughter anymore, it had all just gone off plan. He had promised her so much and she had believed it. Just for her daughter. Never for herself. How could she have been so blind? How could she have gone through with this? It was for Fareeha. And now look at where it had gotten her.

 

She was stuck between two walls, closing in on her. In front of her was her daughter, the light in her life, behind her was everything she had ever done to get here. All of those people she had just used as stepping stones. It had seemed harmless at first. One person here and there, then the list became longer than she could count on her fingers. All of those smiles, those trusting smiles. They were like knives, rusty knives, and she couldn’t do a thing to stop their eventual death. Only one agent had died from someone other than their own organization in her hay day.    
  
If anything, she was the spider and they, her victims. She hated herself for it. Could she ever for a moment take it all back?

 

_ Silly Ana, you could never once take a step back.  _

 

Every time she took a shot, she could see the ghost of a person long passed. Every time she walked down the hallway or the street or anywhere for that matter, people who didn’t even exist anymore walked alongside her. Their faces clouded with disbelief, panic, pain, misery, and disgust. When she closed her eye she could feel their breath on her neck, their scent in her nostrils, the screams in her ears. She was a good actor, she owned the stage. Morrison must have been proud of his puppet. But when would her usefulness end?

 

“Ana.” She heard the man’s voice, it made her stomach curl in disgust. She stood up, turning around to smile at him like nothing was wrong, just as she always did.    
  
“Yes, Jack?” She took in a breath, as if taking in the sea air. “Ah I always loved this watchpoint.” She hummed.   
  
“Are you ready to get your daughter back?” His gun hit the ground as he stood in ready position. 

  
“I’m always ready.” She took her gun from the ground, steadying it in her hands.   
  
“Good. We’ll leave before midnight. It should leave us some time before it gets light out.” He flipped his weapon back into his arms and cradled it like a child.

 

As soon as he left her sight she turned back towards the ocean. The sun was steadily going down since she came out. She would get her daughter back, in a way, just for a moment. Even if it was on her dying breath, she would take the moment. 

 

“I am coming, my dearest.” 

 

* * *

  
  
Fareeha lay quietly in bed, she was as still as a corpse, her eyes never moving from that one point on the ceiling. Her mind was wandering through all sorts of things. She was taken away from these thoughts when her door was knocked on rapidly. That sort of, fearful knocking. It took her breath away. It reminded of her when she was sitting at home, about ready to sleep, when the door rattled back and forth. She opened it to reveal unfamiliar people who looked terribly sad. After that she didn’t remember much, just that they told her to sit down. She couldn’t even remember what they said after, just that their lips were moving.    
  
She hopped up in a state of fear, her heart threatening to burst from her chest, opening the door as fast as she could. The person on the other side was taken aback, it was a female guard who usually patrolled the hall as well as the medical wing. 

 

“Ms. Amari, you need to come quickly. You were the closest person from the bay. Please follow me, I don’t have time to explain.” She ran to the left of the door, never once looking back to check if Fareeha followed. 

 

Of course she followed, there was no way she couldn’t. The state of everything here was so fragile, she wasn’t able to even sleep at night on occasion. She heard the sound of someone struggling to get away from a room close by. Shuffling followed by screams of help as they slid out from the room and into view. Blood. That’s all she could notice. Then it took her a few seconds to compile that that room the person had ran from, was Angela’s. 

  
Her stomach turned violently at the sight of that poor person, who had done this? Surely it wasn’t Doctor Ziegler. She ran to the door, nearly slipping to her face. She caught herself on the trim, almost ripping it from the wall. She was met with the terrified face of Angela Ziegler. Her hair was in her face, her eyes filled with this strange dead vibe, almost as if her body was being controlled by someone else and she was stuck watching.    
  
Fareeha threw herself into the room, shutting the door with a spare hand and using her other to put forward as some form of peace offering. All that resulted in was Angela walking back towards the windowed wall, the knife still tightly gripped in her hand.

 

“They weren’t real… so it doesn’t matter… it was a  _ casualty of war _ .” Even her voice sounded distant, like they were in a tunnel stuck at separate ends, looking at a different light at the end.   
  
“Angela, they are real.” She started, taking small steps towards her. “You know that’s not true, they aren’t just another casualty. Nothing is just another casualty.” She stopped herself, hoping that it would make sense. That maybe just maybe this would end quickly.   
  
“You kidnapped me. So… so you aren’t even Fareeha.” She hissed, walking closer to her.   
  
“I did not kidnap you.” She continued forward as well, unafraid of that blade.   
  
“You even… you even had the gall to send me a note under a pseudonym!” Her hand shook now.   
  
She never sent a note, what was she even talking about? “Put the knife down, Angie.  _ Please _ .”

  
“That’s close enough.” The knife was moved forward into the threshold between them.   
  
“Don’t let a knife end us.” Her voice came out in an lulling whisper.

 

“You and I? We never had anything to begin with. I don’t even recognize you anymore. Your smile doesn’t even fit the same.” Her hand shook worse.

 

Fareeha put her arms around the shaking woman, feeling the rather sharp tip hit her mid-section. She didn’t care, she continued this embrace until the woman’s knees gave way. She followed her down, letting the knife slip from her and onto the concrete floor.    
  
“That’s it.” She grunted through clenched teeth, never once letting her go.    
  
Angela was frozen in fear from what she had just done, unable to say a single word.   
  
“Shhh..” She turned her around, holding her even tighter. “Do not worry, I will be fine. I’m always fine.” 

  
The knife sat on the floor in front of them, the silence grabbing at the room now. 

  
“Let me… let me patch that up…” Angela said in a hushed voice.   
  
Fareeha leaned her head onto her shoulder, closing her eyes. “That won’t be necessary, Doctor Ziegler.” 


	8. Time Is Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be wary, the chapters get more intense from here.

The night had come, silent as ever, bone-chillingly quiet. She sat awake at her post alongside her handler, Widowmaker. Her hands were almost glued to her weapons by the way she sat, ready to take anyone down that came through the set of doors she was set to watch. Although, without admitting it, it was rather obvious that she was afraid. She could feel one hand on her shoulder, and see the other on Widow’s rifle.

An alarm signal came through, not out loud but through their lines of communication.  
Lena jumped, thankfully not into the ceiling.

Widow grabbed her gun, holding it steadily. She did the telltale nod towards Tracer, running up to a higher post.

Lena stood up, running backward to face the double doors that led into the main hub of the base. She could hear distant feet pattering against the tiled ground. The gentle pattering became disturbingly loud. So they weren’t about stealth… but there was only three of them, what could running in head first, solve?

The large door heaved in and out, in and out and in and out, like it was breathing, she had never seen metal react like that before. Fear hit her heart sending her into a flurry of emotions. Breathe, Lena. Breathe. Her ears picked up the sound of a click under the bashing of the door. Ana would dart whoever lay on this side of the door while whoever was bashing at the door would charge onward. Click. She grabbed her guns, holding them rather steadily for being afraid out of her mind.

A rather eerie groaning sound echoed through the empty halls, the door being taken from it’s slot.

Lena blinked into a side room, standing ever so quietly in wait for her prey to fall for it. However, she knew they were much too smart to fall for such a party trick. Metal laden footsteps echoed on the floor. She could hear his breath, muffled, but obvious. Reinhardt. Two sets of footsteps followed behind him, one small, Ana and the other was quiet yet heavy, Winston.

She hadn’t thought of Winston before. Was he also in on this little charade? It made her feel even sicker to think of it, he had been the one to manufacture her faulty Chronal Accelerator. Betrayal and anger flashed across the features of her face, her emotions reflecting upon her new uniform. She truly fit it now.

She knew she couldn’t be rash, doing that would end up killing her or at least damaging her enough to warrant another stupidly long hospital stay. She heard one stop, Winston, and distinctly could hear his footsteps enter the room near to her’s.

“I thought there would be more people here.” He remarked, his voice hanging in the air.

“And I thought they were the meat-headed climb all over you until you fall over, type.” Reinhardt added, his voice heavy with emotion and yet sturdier than ever.

“Don’t be disappointed quite yet, gentlemen. There’s someone around here.” Just as she had said this, a shot entered the air. A single bullet traveling until it hit the wall nearest them.

They hopped back quickly, hearing more shots, then more, until reload. After the reload the sound of the gun spinning back followed. “Woooah there, I wouldn’t step in that direction, missy. You’d hit a landmine.”

  
“Jesse? Is that you?” She asked, her voice slightly lower, she hid something.

“Yes ma’am.” Lena could imagine him tilting his hat

“So you were here all along? Did they capture you and you just broke free?” She asked in a snaking voice.

“Y’all know the truth.” As soon as he had said truth he heard footsteps come from either direction.

Lena took this as a chance to blink into the hallway. She was joined by Genji and Mei, both looked almost as angry as she did.

She stood behind them, Genji to the side in their blind spots and Mei directly in front. McCree stayed back, a look of excitement hitting his cheeks.

“What’s all this, then?” Reinhardt looked around in confusion, so the poor fool was uninformed.

“Talon clones. They do that, you know?” She readied her gun, taking a clear shot at McCree.

Lena shoved herself forward, un-steadying Ana, leaving McCree to dodge the dart. She pushed off from her, blinking backward and then forward.

Winston grabbed her by the leg, stopping her from moving. She hung in mid air, her leg making an absolutely heart-wrenchingly awful sound. Her mind told her to fight, not flee, she couldn’t move until he let go for fear of her leg being permanently dismembered.

As he did this, the two others charged, taking on Reinhardt and Ana, separating them from Tracer. Winston was dumbfounded, dropping her without even thinking. She took the moment to get herself back into sanity, trying to let go of her anger mid-fight. Like that was going to happen. When she was angry, she would hold onto it until she solved the problem, and letting Winston toy with her like that wasn’t the solution.

“ **Lena**?” His voice rose up an octave, seemingly forgetting that they were in the midst of battle.

She didn’t give him the chance to talk, her body recalling Her leg was now fine, although it still ached. Why give him a chance to talk? Reel her back in like a fish? She hated how she felt but she took shots in his direction, he retaliated but very hesitantly. Her head was so blurred with disgust that she took a hit from his weapon, her body falling to the ground on her back. He stood over her, pinning her down to the floor.

She felt weak, exposed, her body bracing for impact. Her head streamed with harsh thoughts that wouldn’t stop lingering in the forefront of her mind. Her emotions grew unstable, scattering about like butterflies in the air.

“Tracer why on Earth are….are you like _this_?” He looked her over, the glint from the overhead lights clouding his glasses.

“I dunno what you mean, luv.” She spat, smiling her usual happy smile. Her emotions conflicted far too much. She heard the sound of Widowmaker’s rifle, Winston was thrown back. Lena froze, watching as his arm was forced backward in an unnatural position. Another shot followed, hitting his other arm, his weapon hitting the ground mere inches in front of her legs. His body hit a wall.

Her old friend-- either completely stupid or a master manipulator. She didn’t know how to feel or think for that matter. Nothing made sense, everything was completely wrong. Nothing lined up, nothing fit together. Who knew and who didn’t? She didn’t have time to find out. She flashed backward, standing up drunkenly. She faced Winston who now sat splayed against a wall. He appeared so small in comparison to her now, his large figure limp. His glasses lay broken to his side, his face frozen in fear. So he was naive, funny, she thought he was the smart one. She had no time to have pity for the beast.

A voice in the back of her head told her to end him, to let him out of his misery. The other part of her told her not to do it, so she listened, and shut out the other voice. She couldn’t anyway, seeing as Ana now moved freely between the five of them. Reinhardt’s hammer hit the wall with a clamber, the hall shaking.

Lena moved back, scanning the room as intently as she could.

_Where was Morrison?_

The ceiling further down the hall collapsed, the night sky visible through the hole. Fareeha lingered above, a stream of red light coming off of her from behind. A rocketeer and her angel.

Fareeha glared down at her mother, a look of sadness washed over her. However she pointed her rocket launcher at her, only a slight quiver coming from her arms. She landed on the roof.

Widowmaker’s footsteps came from the left of her, her grappling hook hit the ledge of the new hole. Widow went up into the night. _They had to cover the high ground too._

Ana took a shot at her, missing, then another, missing, attempting to ignore the fact that her daughter had landed above her.

McCree continued cover fire as Mei shot ice at the legs of the ex-Overwatch operatives. Reinhardt continued pushing his assault, seemingly missing everything. It seemed one of them was about to break-- one of them didn’t seem faithful to the cause anymore. Or whatever one could call Overwatch, now.

Lena growled quietly, following Widowmaker out of the hole, she would find Morrison. She would demand answers and she would not hold her tongue anymore.  
  
Ana put her hands up, however it was too late. She heard the sound of a bullet hitting her in the side, followed by a painful cry. Fareeha was silent. She then heard footsteps running off into the distance, Ana's again, why did she run from those who would freely fire at her? And how did they do it without feeling guilt? Before taking a run she heard her footsteps lead up to the roof. A large bang followed, Fareeha had hit the ground-- then Lena ran, ran as fast as she could to keep up with the ever moving spider.

Everything in her head told her this quest for answers was wrong and that she should stop fighting for what wasn’t right. She fought to destroy whatever voice this was-- she frantically wondered if it had been programmed into her. Surprisingly, the voice of reason overwhelmed her now, Talon was correct. For once what she thought was wrong was correct and there was no turning back. _Her hatred lay in other places._


	9. Their Meaning Unknown

 

The elderly sniper fell into the gravel of the flat roof, her sides heaving in and out quickly. She could barely feel anything-- the adrenaline rushed to her head. She got back up, falling right back onto her face. Red began to appear on her clothes. Twice, she had been hit twice. She steadied herself on her stomach, the pain eating at her until she was high on it. Her gun was shoved into the gravel chips, _she would take the shot. No more hesitations._

 

A needle went racing forward, hitting Widow in the back. She skittered through the gravel to a halt, inches from the edge of the main building.   
  
She fired again, this time hitting her in the arm, then again, in the neck, then again-- until her gun needed to be reloaded again. However, she hadn’t brought any extra rounds for the ride. The ground beneath shook, Reinhardt had kept them busy. More gun fire, her ears went out when she heard a rifle shot echo through the air. Fear gripped her throat, she felt it hit her in the shoulder. Her body jerked back violently, rock going into her wounds on her frontside.   
  
“This is… an ironic ending…” She whispered, feeling the light fade all around her, fuzziness grabbed her. She noticed widowmaker eerily running towards her, her body failing her from the amount of drugs being pumped into her at the same time. She steadied herself for another shot, unable to make it as the roof was thrust upward, Reinhardt’s hammer flashing through. She was hit, the sound of bones shattering somehow rose above the initial crunching rubble. She fell in front of Ana, the two now lay next to each other on the caving in roof.

 

Widow coughed, her body shivering intensely.  
  
“No-” Lena ran back, her back turned to whatever could linger ahead. She skid on the gravel, fighting her way down to see the damage. “Amélie-- Ana… You--” She was both angry and grateful at Ana Amari, seeing as she had numbed and shot sedative at Widowmaker. Which would greatly reduce pain on her end.   
“Neither of you are dying tonight.. Neither…” Tracer hissed, glaring down the hole then back at them, where was Angela?   
  
**_Where. Was. Angela?_ **

  
A rocket barrage destroyed more of the building, leaving the roof to sag even more so.   
Lena was slammed backward, she crawled back forward, hearing something coming from Ana.   
  
“Tracer, you… you must do something for me.” She laughed ever so quietly, as if attempting to cherish these last moments. “Tell her… my Fareeha… that she is loved…. And that I love her and will miss her... “ She hissed the last bit, her body seeming to fade.   
  
Why did actions occur so fast? Why did things pop into view for a moment and then become so grave so quickly?   
  
“No no… no! I will save you, both of you, no one is dying tonight. _No one_ .” Hearing those words made her feel that Ana knew the truth, seeing as she no longer had intentions to try to fire at them while down even when she was dying. “You will tell her you love her, yourself. A billion times even, and you’ll live a full life.”   
  
“My time is done… _fair blackbird_.” Her eyes began glossing over, the last bits of life ticking away as if a clock was displayed in her skin.

 

Lena’s eyes widened….  
  
**_Blackbird._ ** ****  
**_  
_ ** Her heart skipped a beat, her vision going screwy, her ears losing their ability to even make sense of sound. She heard gunfire near her, but it didn’t phase her. She numbly shook at the still warm body of Ana Amari, the world's’ best sniper… and most importantly, the world’s best mother.

 

“ _You were right_ .” A voice cut itself out from the gunfire and only stay there for a moment. Fareeha. She heard nothing else from her, only rocket fire. However it was a voice that lingered only in her head, and nowhere else. _Those words hadn’t even entered the air yet._

 

She shakily rummaged through her pockets, finding her Biotic Grenades. She tossed it down onto the ground, the feeling of warmth dancing through her body and hopefully her dear spider’s.

 

“Lena…” The Frenchwoman whispered, her body still shaking ever so horribly.  
  
“Don’t speak, I have to move you… and you need to conserve energy, I can’t let them get you anymore.” Tracer said in a rather too happy-to-be-real voice.

 

“Behind you.” She hissed, warily looking towards the man with white hair.  
  
Lena flipped around, standing in front of Widow, attempting to bring her out of the firing range.   
  
“Tracer, I thought you would have broken free from them... _Not joined these heathens_.” His deep voice shook her bones.

 

“Morrison, I thought you’d have quit playing mastermind by now. It doesn’t suit you.” She shot back in a shaky voice, her eyes trained to his visor.   
  
Laughter came from the other party, explosions and crashing noises went over the top of his distorted sounds of delight. “You poor girl, letting Talon trick you like that.”   
  
“Funny, really, you can drop the act now.” She walked forward, standing mere feet away now.   
  
“I’m not acting, short-stop. I’m being truthful. They have really gotten you good.” His voice turned caring, almost fatherly.

 

She heard someone land behind her, light feet. Angela. Mercy. A gasp followed, she had noticed Ana’s body.

 

“All of you are influenced by this?” He asked, shaking his head. “You are Overwatch, you are better than that.”

 

So he was playing the mind games, now, huh? Not if she could help it.  
  
“You’re right…” Tracer whispered, tilting her head down, her red tinted eyes filling with a false sense of sadness. “Let me make it up to you, 76.” She turned on her feet, facing Widowmaker and Mercy, her face taking on a strange smile.   
  
Mercy glared, almost buying into what Tracer was doing.

  
“Oxton, let’s bring them home. We can reverse this brainwashing they’ve suffered.”   
  
“Yes sir.” She drew her guns, holding them forward towards them. Her body shifted into an orange burst of energy, her body appearing behind Morrison’s. She promptly shot, leaving him hit twice in the back. He rolled forward, running towards the injured and deceased. He was forced upward into the air, Pharah propelling them into the stars. She dropped out from under him, his body falling like a bullet into the Earth, he braced. The sound of the impact was disturbing, yet somehow he still managed to crawl an inch. Adrenaline was maddening.

 

Lena looked at him over the roof’s edge, her face completely emotionless. Bitterness, sadness, anger and hatred ate at her so intensely that she could feel nothing. Was this how Widowmaker felt? A shiver rippled up her spine at that thought. She put her goggles around her neck. Tears fell down her cheeks, creating ruts down the dust that had gripped onto her face during battle. She didn’t stop herself from crying this time. No, releasing it would be better. So much better.

 

Ana had died, Jack was on the brink of death, Winston was badly injured, and Reinhardt? How was Reinhardt? She collapsed onto her knees at the sound of the rocket bringing head-of-security wailing at the second demise of her mother. She had never heard such a sound come from her before-- and never even thought that possible. She made the only sound, the rest of the world was hushed as the sun rose from beneath the horizon line.

 

**Two doves.**   
  
Her mind flashed back to when she had her nightmares during her recovery. She saw herself in a strange uniform bent over a table writing a note.   
  
**Asunder.**   
  
She could remember hearing cries similar to this, the sounds haunting her very core.   
  
**Without light they fade.**   
  
The sound of panic.   
****  
**And in the dark they are just blackbirds.**   
  
Feverish feelings of fear and hatred and betrayal, seeing the injured bodies of her friends.

 

**When the rainbow hits the void.**

 

Color, violent color and sound entered her head as she vividly remembered the next dream and the next.  
  
**Time is lost.** ****  
****  
She saw herself, Her previous self, finding the note.  
  
**Their meaning unknown.**

 

She could hear Ana sitting on the roof talking to herself, alone.

 

**Sunlight behind the dark curtain.** ****  
**  
** She felt something hit her, she fell backwards as if something had forced her to fall that way.  
  
The world fell around her, but a single thought kept hitting her in the head, 

_Blackbird, she was blackbird. And she, she had a letter to write._


	10. Sunlight Behind the Dark Curtain

Three days had past since the deaths and capturing of Overwatch members. Lena sat quietly in a room she now called her own, writing down the same words she remembered. Each burned in her mind, each sent her to another burst of memory. She understood how to deliver it now, a rather knowing yet afraid smile taking over her face. 

 

She took the paper into her hands as tightly as she could, holding the recording device in the other.  _ Lena, remember.  _ She remembered the sound of Pharah’s voice echoing off of the walls of Angela’s office, her frantic words. Her heart fluttered, eyes flicking back and forth, reading the note over and over, bringing it into her head like it was some sort of mantra. She stepped back, ran forward and then flung herself backwards. The feeling of recalling pulling her away farther than she had imagined.

 

She fell backwards into a wall the air being pushed out of her. The sound she made was stupidly loud, almost sound barrier breaking. Pharah and Mercy’s heads snapped towards her, looking at her with widened eyes.

_   
_ “Lena?” 

 

“Yes, and no, I have no time.” That was half true and half a lie, she didn’t really know how long she could exist here before being pulled forward or having to force herself forward.

 

The hand with the note shook, her eyes flicking around. Where did she set the note again? Wait-- what was she doing? She couldn’t just-- her thoughts were swiftly interrupted. 

 

“But Lena, you just told me you were going to… sleep?” Angela quietly said, almost coughing on her words. Even Pharah was at a loss. 

“I didn’t feel like it. So I changed my wardrobe up and recalled here because I’m lazy.” She quickly shot back, the sarcasm boiling hot in her voice. What was she doing? She could screw up the other’s timelines-- however, this could have happened before. She could have said these same things. Her head burned. Images piled up in her head, the feeling of desperation to end this instance crawled up her neck. However she would have to keep going, to make this puzzle fall into place.    
  
Pharah’s eyes snapped to her arm, noting the very obvious Talon logo. “Oxton-- you work with us?”   
  
“It’s a very very long story and I can only tell it after this moment.” She insisted, running off to the other room. She skirted the row of tables, then went to the windows, setting the piece of paper onto the same one her past self found it on.  Good, now what was it she had to do? Right.   
  
Pharah took this confusion as leverage to lure Angela with her. “You must come with me, there’s no telling what will happen here if you don’t leave.”   
  
Lena grabbed the recording device, shifting it upward as quickly as possible. Perfect. She hit the button to initiate the sequence. 

 

The window was broken, shattered, the sound of papers crumpled. “Was machst du hier?!”   
  
“Come with me.” She said, walking forward gingerly, Pharah following.   
  
“Nein! Never!” She hissed, hitting the recording the device from her hand, deactivating it.   
  
“Angela, c’mon luv.” Lena put a hand out, it shook excessively.    
  
“Why would you of all people do this?” She asked, holding her staff tightly, ready to use it. She hesitated, why couldn’t she move?

 

“Trust me, I felt the same way.”  Her eyes softened, the previous feelings were thrown into a torrent of hazel hues.   
  
Angela’s body visibly stiffened, sweat pooling on her forehead. Two Lena’s. One had just gone to bed, and another stood before her. Something was off, something big. “Then tell me, why did you join Talon?”    
  
Pharah looked towards her in curiosity, unable to formulate words to ease the situation.

  
“Because Overwatch has done nothing but warp the minds of people into thinking that they are the good guys, that nothing can go wrong with them in power. With anything that has power, there is corruption, and Overwatch has far past it’s stay.” Her voice cracked near the end, leading her to look onward in silence. Emotion held her body, being back in Gibraltar had just settled in. 

 

Staring at the familiar walls was more haunting than comforting. All of the lies embedded in the metal and glass, all of the falsely hopeful souls stationed here. Jack Morrison’s behind the scenes plots that had led to unfathomable amounts of death and destruction. One name rang out in her head, crisply and clearly. 

 

Amélie. 

 

Her stomach curled, her eyes matching this emotion. She took the goggles from her face, taking the time to show Angela her truth. Her hazel eyes were bad at lying, they always had been. 

 

Angela’s eyebrow quirked, a look of confusion spreading quickly over the look of fear and disgust. “I will come with you.” She whispered emptily, her body shaking. 

 

Fareeha put her hand out, offering it as an Olive branch. 

 

“Trust us, Doctor Ziegler, you don't want to be here when Morrison finally cracks.” Lena smiled through the look of sadness, trying her best to not scare her away. 

 

Angela reluctantly took Fareeha’s hand, a gut feeling of disgust ripping through her. “What have I got to lose?” 

 

\------

 

She led them to a drop ship tucked on part of the roof. Where they promptly boarded it. 

 

Angela looked back towards the watchpoint in the sea, finding it hard to comprehend all of this. 

 

“Don't worry, luv. I'll hopefully be able to make sense of it for you.” Lena said as she spotted the glint of Ana Amari’s rifle on a far off peak. She salute towards her, nodding her head, as she did this the glint vanished. 

 

She stepped back in further, realizing who say to the far left of the door. There was an extra person with them. 

 

When her eyes focused she was taken aback by the expression on their face. Surprise. There wasn't any words to describe the oddity of seeing emotion on that Spider’s face. 

 

Lena even sat next to her, straightening herself up as the ship took off. When the door closed it took her a moment for her eyes to adjust. “Fancy seeing you here, Widowmaker.” 

 

“Why was I not informed of your arrival into our ranks?” She hissed, her yellow eyes glaring into her soul like drawn swords. 

 

“I arrive later, luv…” When she finished that, those yellow eyes of her’s grew curious. “Yeah, I said it, later. It’s a long story, and I'm gonna tell it when we return.” 

 

The rest of the ride resulted in her being the focal point of attention. She was being stared at by everyone, which, she admitted to herself, was a bit uncomfortable. The shiny future girl being stared at by the relics. 

 

\--

 

When they arrived they immediately took themselves to a secure room, sitting in the comfort of what mirrored a conference room. Where, upon arriving she told the stories and the tales, and the cold hard facts. 

 

Angela denied most of them, just like she had. Until each fact became more and more realistic, leaving her crushed. Anger boiling in her eyes. At one point she slammed her hands against the metallic table, causing Lena to jump, Fareeha to put a hand on her back and Widow to roll her eyes. 

 

When this was over, Lena had carefully taken aside Fareeha. This was important to her. She remembered the walls from her friend, and the words they shared days earlier. 

 

_ “Lena, wait, before you go back. Please, remember to warn me. Tell me exactly what happens if you need to…” Her voice had grown frantic and scared.  _

 

_ “I will try.” She remembered saying, hoping that if she did this nothing would be messed up _ . 

 

Lena took her by the hands and looked up at her. “Fareeha, a very strong and brave woman, told me to tell you something unbelievably important.” 

 

The red in her cheeks vanished, leaving her looking incredibly fearful. 

 

“You are going to lose someone very important to you.” She attempted to start another sentence but the feeling of the other’s sturdy body beginning to shiver, scared her. “I need you to know that they love you, and always have. And that they continued on in Overwatch for the sake of you.”

 

It was such a twisted fate. To lose the one you love over something so evil. Something you could trust, something that could only be described as a safe haven, all turning in a vortex of hatred and power. Leaving innocent people to lose their lives and their homes and everything they ever worked for. Leaving people like Fareeha without a mother, Amélie without memories, Angela played as the fool, And Lena, Lena was in the center. No matter how much she denied it, she was a victim turned survivor. 

 

And she would overcome. 

 


	11. Signed, Blackbird.

It became a waiting game, her life spinning around her while she watched from all sides, waiting for the moment to jump forward again. She waited and waited and waited until that night, the night where everyone fought and some died.

When she heard the sound of Jack hit the ground again, her heart sunk. Even after knowing what he was, and the evils he had done, she remembered a time where she was naive. Where she looked up to him for advice. Where he was her mentor and father figure. She shook her head, leaping up, leaping straight at herself. When she nearly hit herself, she saw nothing but blackness, bits of sound echoing around her, she shut her eyes tightly, focusing on the distant sound of Widowmaker’s voice asking her how it went.

When she opened her eyes she landed back first onto the floor, papers swooping up into the air around her, falling down gracefully to cover her.

She had somehow ended up in Angela’s office.

“Sorry about the papers, luv.” She said dizzily, feeling her body start to gain stability again.

“Oh you're back. It has been exactly three hours since you left.” Angela peered over the top of her desk to the floor. “So?”

“You already know what happened.” She sat up, almost hitting her head on the desk.

“So we’re all on the same page now, good.” Angela smiled warmly, getting up to help her stand, offering her hand.

“Thanks, luv.” She smirked, taking her hand. “Finally, someone offers me their hand this time.” 

Angela let out a small but meaningful laugh, the edge of worry that once lingered behind her voice seemingly gone. Good.

The room grew silent, all eyes in the room looked to the pink, and orange hued sky.  
  
Lena faced the windows, the sunlight trickling in with orange light, mirroring the light in her chest. She wasn’t the evil she had feared, she was the sunrise on a new day. She was both a tragedy and a new beginning, a fireball, a ray of sun, and, _ a blackbird. _

A person could wake up and think that they know themselves, scream their truth at the sky until their breaths come out ragged and tattered. Defend everything they ever believed in until their dying breath, and die thinking that they knew the truth.

Sometimes just sometimes you have to question yourself, curse to the wind and hope that you can grasp what is reality and what is fiction warped by those who gravitate around you. 

And sometimes,  

_you need to chase yourself._


	12. [Audiobook Version]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter outlines updates and cool new things regarding this AU!

Hey guys, sorry if you thought this was some continuation chapter to Blackbird, but I wanted to update it with the new audiobook my team and I have been working on. That's right, the entire Blackbird fanfiction will be read with really awesome voice actors and voiceover artists.

Chapter 1: https://soundcloud.com/user-949398730/blackbird-chapter-1  
Chapter 2: https://soundcloud.com/user-949398730/blackbird-chapter-2   
Chapter 3: Coming soon!  
Chapter 4: Coming soon!  
Chapters 5-11: Coming soon!

Credits for these lovely VA's:  
Narrator: JVA  
Tracer: UbrrBunniVA (MegTaylor)  
Soldier 76: Hollow of Dawn  
Winston: SirCaptainRose  
Mercy: ArtlessMaroon  
"Ana": Check (CheckThese)  
Ana: SuspiciousMafioso  
Pharah: FinalSpark  
Reinhardt: Heilung  
McCree: Kemerd  
Widowmaker: Widowbiker  
Genji Shimada: EricDubyu  
Mei: Sweetcookie500

In news on Blackbird in general, there will be a new series that exists in this universe coming after the audiobook is completed!


End file.
